


The boy behind the wall

by YuriHaruyama



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Childhood Trauma, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fix-It, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Potential smut in the later chapters, Rating May Change, no beta we die on hook, the heart wants what the heart wants
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-20 07:54:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30001698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YuriHaruyama/pseuds/YuriHaruyama
Summary: If you're anything like me, you read/heard about Hillbilly's backstory and just wanted to give the poor baby a hug and felt remorse at not being able to do anything for him.Well, this fic is a wish-fulfillment of doing just that. Hugging and saving the poor bean from his awful family.I was going to set it a bit further back where he was like, 14 or 15, but I know myself and I know it'll get heated later on and I don't like dealing with timeskips, so in this, Max is 19 and my original character Layla May is 18.There shall be sadness at first, but the fluff will come, I promise. I do angst well, but I promise I soothe the ache it leaves behind. I love Max too much to deprive him of any good things. He deserves all the love and softness, please just let me hug him.
Relationships: Max Thompson Jr. | The Hillbilly/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 9





	The boy behind the wall

A neighbor’s niece is sent to live with them during the summer to help with her illness. The farms are warm during the summer, leaving her in better constitution there than where she lives normally. She uses her newfound ability to be outdoors longer than a few minutes here and there to explore and get to know the area. And the neighbors to her aunt and uncle.

At first, she doesn’t notice the sharpness that follows Mr. and Mrs. Thompson, jovially introducing herself as Layla May, Mr. and Mrs. May’s niece. They don’t seem to abhor her presence on the farm, and don’t mind the odd question here and there she has about the farm animals or the equipment.

It’s one midday where Mrs. Thompson agrees to let her inside for a glass of lemonade after helping her in the home garden that Layla stumbles across the secret she was never supposed to know about.

Mrs. Thompson had grown used to the young girls presence, and left her to her own devices at the kitchen table sipping her lemonade and dabbing daintily at her forehead and neck after being out in the hot sun for the better part of an hour helping her weed. She’d gotten careless, and thought the girl was too polite or too slow to wander from the kitchen while she went back outside to finish off the gardening.

Layla however was ever the curious teenager, having been stuck inside with only books to keep her company since her father worked and her mother had passed just a year after her birth.

She wandered the home after finishing the lemonade quickly, having been rather parched. She admired the pretty wallpaper chosen, and the few trinkets placed just so. It was a very quaint looking home that Mrs. Thompson had cultivated.

That’s why when she wandered downstairs and found a very… crude wall of bricks that had no door, she was confused and even more curious.

She approached the wall unafraid and unaware of the poor soul behind it. She stared at it, then gently ran her fingers across the rough surface in thought.

A soft hum of thought left her, finally alerting Max inside to the new presence. Which confused him even more than the wall confused her.

He didn’t recognize the voice on the other side, and could almost convince himself he hadn’t heard anything until she spoke very softly from the other side.

“I wonder why this is here? Maybe it’s like… a sinkhole that’s been stopped up?” She’s theorizing now, trying to put some rhyme or reason to the wall being there. Trying to find an explanation with her own limited knowledge.

That’s why when she heard movement on the other side, she spooked a little. She hadn’t thought it would be keeping something in. And the moment it passed her mind, she realized it must be because whatever inside was dangerous.

She held her breath, unsure of why, but not wanting to be heard as she slowly moved back a little to look at the wall more closely.

Max had moved to the little hole, the single brick missing, to try and get a glimpse of whoever was outside his prison.

He didn’t know how to feel, he’d never seen anyone besides dad and mama, never laid eyes on anyone else.

That’s why when he managed to get a full look at a girl, small, smaller than mama by a lot, he gasped. Well, as much of one as he could.

He watched her jump at the noise he made, she looked… he wasn’t sure, but her eyes were big, looking around the wall quickly, flitting from spot to spot rapidly before they passed over his little missing brick spot.

She almost screamed, but her hands went to her mouth, muffling her startled gasp at seeing someone on the other side looking at her. Staring. Almost unblinking.

She took a moment to find her voice, to find the nerve within herself once more.

With a shaky hand over her collarbone, seeming to be the thing holding herself together, she managed out a very soft and questioning “Hello?” while making direct eye contact with whoever was staring at her.

She noticed when the eyes seemed to widen slightly at her words, but nothing else happened.

She had her full focus on the eyes behind the wall, the need to know who it was burning through her mind and making her fingers a little numb with the sensation arcing through her body too.

She took a tentative step towards the wall, hand still clutched to her chest, the action providing her a semblance of comfort and safety as she ventured into an unknown situation.

Max was surprised at the appearance of this girl, both in her being there and what she looked like.

She was in a sundress, a cute little blue gingham one with a bit of puff to the sleeves. She looked unreal to him, her face perfect and unblemished, unlike his. Her skin was so smooth, looked so soft and her hair looked really nice. He didn’t know who she was or why she was here, but he wanted to keep looking at her.

Her hair was in a side ponytail, not pulled tight, but only just enough to keep it out of her face.

He watched in anticipation as she took two more steps closer, before she leaned down ever so slightly to be just a bit closer to level with the opening. Still standing a good 4 or 5 feet away from the wall.

“Hello? Can you hear me in there?” She asked softly, a feeling in the back of her mind telling her to not be loud both so she isn’t found snooping and to not startle whoever is watching her in case they really are dangerous.

He tilts his head ever so slightly at her words, as much as his disfigured body allows.

She seems to see it, her own body unconsciously mimicking his movements, her head tilting ever so slightly to the side.

He doesn’t know why seeing that makes him smile, but he goes with it.

She lifts her hand, waving shyly. “Hi, can you… can you speak?” Her voice is soft, nice. Much nicer than mama’s. He leans closer, almost pressing himself against the rough brick to try and see more of her, even though she’s in full view already.

He understands what she’s saying, it’s not that his parents don’t speak around him, it’s that they don’t speak to him. Just at him, and usually angrily.

Her voice though, it’s nice. It doesn’t make him angry or scared like his parents do.

His hand comes up, fingers resting in the hole he’s peering out of, to steady himself as he leans so close.

She sees the fingers pop up and then rest on the brick, confirming to her that it is indeed a person back there.

The basement is lit, but lowly. She can’t get a real good look at who she’s talking to from where she is, and now that she knows it’s another person behind there, she’s less scared about getting closer to the wall.

She shuffles a few more steps forward, until she’s just a foot and a half from the wall and kneels down in front of the little opening, coming eye to eye with Max behind it.

At this movement, a small noise does actually escape him. He hadn’t known what to expect when she moved slowly forward, and it seemed like all he could see for the last moment was the skirt of her dress near her knees before her face came into view, much closer than before.

His eyes went wide, mouth open as he got a much better look at her.

She wasn’t making any of the faces his parents ever made when looking at him, and that made him feel at ease, like she was safe.

He knew she was different. He didn’t know how, but he just knew.

“Hi. I uh… I’m sorry for sneaking around? I was just curious.” She tails off at the end, worry on her face suddenly, wondering if she wasn’t supposed to be down here. Something in her gut told her she really shouldn’t. Why would a person be behind a brick wall in a basement?

A coldness dropped over her shoulders, a bunch of thoughts racing through her head at how someone would be in that situation.

She would be even more disgusted with the truth than any of the worrisome reasons she could think up.

He didn’t know what the last word she said was, but he didn’t get why she was sorry to him for anything. She hadn’t done anything to him. He wasn’t sure what ‘sneaking’ was either, but she hadn’t done anything so he made a small grunt at her.

He didn’t have words he could speak, not really. Whenever he tried to practice talking, he would always get yelled at by one or both of his parents. So he only mouthed some words to himself late at night.

His fingers moved just a bit further out of the hole, curing the tips just slightly on the outside.

She stared at the little opening, looking back to the person behind it, or at least, what she could see.

They looked… a bit off. Not the right proportions from what she could see. But her father had been adamant about treating people who looked ‘different’ as he put it just like anyone else. Most, if not all, couldn’t help whatever made them different. She wasn’t sure what made the skin over the person’s eyes like that, nor why their nose seemed almost squished down against their face like it was getting pressed on, but she overlooked it easily enough.

She had taken note of the grunt, wondering what exactly it meant. “So, you can’t talk then?” her head tilted slightly like it had when she copied him earlier.

He understood all of that, and gave the barest of affirmative grunts. It was almost a hum, but it seemed whatever made his eyes that way might also affect more than just his eyes.

She nodded then, a thoughtful look crossing her face.

“So, if I ask you yes or no questions, you can at least do that?” her head still cocked to the side ever so slightly.

The smile on her face that followed the same affirmative grunt and the smallest flex of his fingers lit something up inside of him. He’d never seen someone smile before.

He liked it. Or maybe he just liked her smile. He wasn’t sure, but what he was sure of is that he wanted her to keep smiling, so if she wanted to ask questions, he’d do his best to give her answers.

“Ok! That’s good!” Her excitement at there being intelligence and willingness to talk to her even though the other person couldn’t really talk carried out the almost praise easily.

Another thing he’d never heard before.

A pleased noise left him, softer than the ‘yes’ he had.

And then she did something he had definitely never heard before.

She giggled.

Hand coming up in front of her mouth ever so slightly, but not hiding it. Eyes closed, cheeks smiling. And the sound, it was soft. It felt nice to listen to. Made his whole body feel warm. Made him want to laugh for the first time in his life.

And that’s what he did, a noise leaving him that startled both him and the girl.

It didn’t take her more than a split second to realize the person had joined her in laughing, and that was all she needed for a grin to fill her face, happy that the person seemed to enjoy her company enough to laugh.

Max had at first thought he messed up when the noise from her stopped and her face went back to that one look she had, eyes wide and mouth just slightly open.

But then he saw the smile come back, and her eyes looked so nice. Warm. He wanted to be closer to her, his body demanding something from him that he didn’t understand. His arms felt like they itched. He didn’t know what was going on, but he gripped at the brick under his hand a little harder, pressing his face flush against the brick again, trying to just be as close as possible since his body was crawling with the new feeling.

Her smile changed, just a little. It was a bit smaller, but no less genuine as she saw the person push closer to the wall.

What she did next took him by surprise but he didn’t stop her, or pull away.

She reached forward with one hand steadying herself on the ground and with the other she brushed them against his own.

“Nice to meet you!” She hummed out cheerily, that softer smile gracing her features.

Her touch was electric to him, a gasp leaving him, before he desperately tried to touch her hand back, fingers fumbling through the little hole, trying to touch the soft skin of her hand.

She notices this, unperturbed by it. Instead, she moves to press her palm flat against the wall, lacing their fingers together where they could reach. “I’m Layla. The neighbors’ niece.”

His heart was hammering and also felt almost absent. The touch was something he’d not felt before. It was gentle, warm, and without malice.

He had no memories of either of his parents ever touching him, and definitely not as softly as this.

He gripped at her hand as best he could with his, seeking the contact like a drowning man clinging to a life preserver.

She had gotten a better look at the face of the person behind the wall, a small wiggling bit of worry in her chest. A dark thought swept through her, the solemn words of her father reaching her ears once more.

‘You must be nice to those who look different. So few ever experience hospitality or even love in their life from those around them. And others… others get locked away because their families are cruel to them, upset that they don’t fit in right. So always be kind, it’s what your mother would have wanted.’

That dark thought was a wondering of whether or not this person was one of the ones that got locked away.

Her eyes glanced along the wall briefly, worry settling into her stomach.

She looked back at him when his fingers flexed ever so slightly at her having been looking away for too long. He didn’t want her to look away, because then she might turn away, and if she turned away she might leave.

He didn’t want her to leave.

She took in a barely there shaky breath, making eye contact again and the urging from her father’s past words bringing another kind smile on her face.

He perked up at her smiling at him, his face doing it’s best to copy her. She saw the slight crinkle of his eyes, her own smile growing just a bit at the realization that he must be smiling too.

She scooted closer, so she didn’t have to hold herself steady to hold his hand.

She sat for a moment, contemplating what she should ask the person behind the wall.

“Do… do you live here with Mr. and Mrs. Thompson?” She finally settled on asking, curious if the Thompson’s knew there was a person here. She felt silly for that line of thought, of course they’d know there was a person in their basement behind the wall.

It took him a moment to understand who the people she was talking about were, but he gave a slightly gruffer affirmative, not liking the thought of his parents.

She had been getting little glimpses of more of the face than just the eyes through this whole time, and felt confident that the person behind the wall was a boy, maybe around her age. Granted, that meant he was an awful lot bigger than her, if the way it seemed he was hunched to see out the hole was anything to go by.

That, and she was small for her age due to her illness keeping her from growing much.

She’d barely graze 4’11” if measured, quite the slight thing.

Max however was nearing the 6’ mark even with how neglected he was behind the wall. Just a few inches shy of it currently.

He was really just basking in the good feelings that were coursing through him from the smallest amount of contact, and her smiles. Her laughter was replaying in his head over and over, he really liked that sound.

She gave a soft hum, thinking for another moment before asking another question.

“Do you stay in there all the time?” She was curious, even if she was sickeningly worried that she’d just get another ‘yes’ from him.

He gave a quieter grunt at this, almost shrinking in on himself a bit at that. What he wouldn’t give to be able to leave this hell of a room.

His eyes never left her though. And he noticed her noticing his slouch.

Her fingers moved against his then, rubbing very gently. There was a look on her face he couldn’t figure out again, but it made his chest almost hurt. He clutched at her hand tighter.

“That… that must be hard.” If it hadn’t been completely quiet save for her voice in the basement, he wouldn’t have heard what she said.

But he would take her leaning even closer. “Can you leave this room?” A very small bit of hope was inside her that maybe there was a door on some other wall she couldn’t see in his room, that he could leave out of if he wanted.

But that hope was snuffed out, leaving her heart aching like it had been cleaved in two when he made the first negative noise of the day.

She squeezed their fingers together a bit more at this, not able to stop the brief grimace of pain and sorrow from crossing her face.

“Do… do you want to leave this room?” an imperceptible tremor was in her voice now, that fear of what the truth could be hovering over her head like an axe.

At this he gave a much louder and enthusiastic grunt that couldn’t be mistaken for anything but ‘yes.’

Her heart clenched, seeing the excitement in his eyes, realizing what this poor boy has likely had to go through if he was this excited and at just the thought of leaving the room he was in.

That, and how desperately he was clinging to her hand, like it was the first time he’d ever been touched and he couldn’t get enough of it.

Then the thought that maybe it was the first time he’d ever been touched flitted through her head.

“Has uh… has anyone ever held your hand before like this?” She gestured with her free hand at their hands.

Another soul gripping grunt of ‘no’ rocked through her. At this, she pushed her hand up higher, locking their hands together even more securely, and letting her thumb rub over his pointer finger in a soft sign of affection that she was now more and more sure he’d never received before.

Especially with the way she saw his eyes light up at the deeper contact.

She fought herself inside, willing herself to not cry, it was not fair to cry in front of him. Even if her whole soul ached at the thought that someone would lock away a family member in such a way, she held out and kept her eyes from even getting misty.

Instead, she switched thoughts. “Do you know how to read?” She really didn’t expect a yes, and when she didn’t get one, she wasn’t surprised but was still feeling the stab to her heart at the thought. Not even taught to read. Or talk.

The thought of how that existence would feel made her feel so incredibly lonely. And with that single thought, fueled by all the other little ones that had passed through her mind, she came to a resolute decision. She would get him out of that room, and away from the Thompson’s.

She didn’t know how, but she’d figure it out. She’d get him out, and in a flare of self-assurance, she promised to herself that she’d do it even if it meant taking this brick wall down by hand.

A soft hum left her, mulling over her choices. “Would you like to hear a story then?”

She smiled almost sadly at the eager ‘yes’ that came through the hole, eyes bright with interest and wholly focused on her.

And that’s how she spent the next hour telling him about a children’s story she remembered from her childhood, about a boy that took a girl on an adventure, helping her learn how to fly.

She enjoyed the expressions that crossed his face as she told him such a simple story. He was eating up all the information, completely enthralled by her retelling like she was the most interesting person he’d ever heard.

She had almost lost herself to just talking to him, telling him little bits about herself after she finished the story. How she had been sick since she was little, about her father taking good care of her and always worrying about her, about all the books she’d read while being bedridden.

While she couldn’t sympathize with being purposefully locked up, she at least knew the feeling of being unable to leave somewhere. She’d been figuratively imprisoned by her own body to a bed for so long. Only barely being able to get up for changing clothes and using the washroom.

She told him about how nice being barefoot in the grass felt during that mid-morning time where it wasn’t dewy anymore, but the grass was still nice and cool while the sun was warm and felt like a hug.

He’d made an inquisitive noise at the end of that one, and she’d realized maybe he didn’t know what a hug was, so she explained that. And when she did, he realized that’s the feeling his body had been clamoring with. He wanted to hug her. To hold her close, as close as possible, to just feel another person being there and not be yelling at him. To just be holding him back. He craved it.

She gave his fingers a squeeze when she saw the look in his eyes.

Just as she was about to promise him a hug when she got him out, they were startled by a car horn honking.

Her eyes went wide, her free hand flying to her mouth to cover it while she gasped out.

“That’s my uncle! I have to go, I’m so sorry. I don’t… I don’t think I was supposed to come down here and find you. I don’t think the Thompson’s want anyone to know you’re here…” She couldn’t keep the sadness nor the distress from her voice now.

She felt him clench at her hand tightly, desperate for her to stay, but she had to gently pull her hand away. He made a pleading noise, fingers scrabbling and hand trying to push through now. He didn’t want her to leave, she was so nice, and made him feel so much… well, everything.

She quickly touched his hand, stopping him from pushing any more than his fingers through in worry that he’d hurt himself.

“Do you know what a promise is?” She quickly asked, looking at his eyes.

He grunted out a ‘no’, but stilled as she leaned in real close, face almost as close to the wall as his was as both of her much smaller hands came up to cup the fingers that had pushed through.

“A promise is something someone gives someone else, it means they will do everything they can to do what they said. Does that make sense?” She felt the deep fear of being found where she shouldn’t be eating at the back of her mind, her skin crawling with the sense of ‘you shouldn’t be here, they’re going to find you, you’re going to be in such big trouble.’

He gave a very small grunt of ‘yes’ at that, understanding what a promise meant now.

“Ok, so now that you know what a promise is, I promise you I’ll be back. I’m going to do everything I can to get you out of this room, but you have to act like I wasn’t here, like you don’t know me and that nothing happened. Okay?” Her eyes were frantic, worry making bile bubble away in her stomach and the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

He gave a faint ‘yes’ at this, not wanting to agree to her leaving, but feeling assured that she promised to be back.

With that, she gave one final squeeze to his fingers before standing up and moving towards the stairs back up, but paused for a moment at the bottom at hearing a soft whine come from behind the wall.

She looked over, leaning over to whisper loudly towards him “Remember my promise!” And with that she went up the steps as quickly as she could, her heart twisting just as much as her stomach was, only her heart was in pain at hearing his desperate whines grow fainter as she got further up, while her stomach was in fear that she’d come up and be caught while leaving.

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so, I have such a soft spot for him, he deserves all the hugs. I wanna give him a soft smooch right on his cheek or forehead, or both! Both is good!
> 
> Now, will our heroine be found red handed by Mrs. Thompson? Tune in next time to find out~


End file.
